


Transmutation

by Alabaster86



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Stillbirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3536093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alabaster86/pseuds/Alabaster86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko's reign as Fire Lord ends after three short years. Mai and Zuko are forced to flee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Escape

Capitol City burned. From their balcony, Mai and Zuko watched the flickering orange of the fires. It was beautiful and it was ugly and it signaled the end.

~~~~0000~~~~~

Their bags were packed, a small satchel for each of them. For the first time since setting eyes on Zuko's scar, Mai cursed the disfigurement. Hiding, traveling incognito would be difficult enough. But that pink and red mess of ruined flesh was like a landmark or a beacon; overthrown Fire Lord over this way…come and get him.

"Keep your hood up," she hissed.

He nodded, did as she said and grabbed his satchel from their bed. _Their_ bed; for three years they had slept there, made love there, curled up under the covers, ill with some bug or other. And they had lost a child there, not yet ready to be born but forced cruelly out into the world. He allowed himself an extra moment; let his hand linger on the silken fabric of the coverlet.

Tonight they would sleep in the home of one of their sympathizers. Not many of them existed. Rebels, armies of citizens dissatisfied with Zuko's acquiescence in certain matters, unhappy with his talk of peace and harmony and working with other nations, helping to rebuild all that they, the Fire Nation, had destroyed during the hundred year war, wanted Zuko gone. Their willingness to ruin and murder was limitless, their anger at the Fire Nation's loss of status virulent.

Rebels had the power now. Zuko's time had come and Zuko's time had gone. Now he and Mai had to find new lives and a new purpose. The terror Zuko felt clawed at his insides like some monstrous beast. And he could see the anguish in Mai's eyes, her own rage at being tossed aside, made to scrabble like rats for survival.

"We'll be all right." He offered the words, half-hearted ones at best.

Mai saw through them. She sneered at Zuko and made for the door. "We're doomed."

~~~~0000~~~~

That night, as they slept in a cramped back room, beneath a cheap blanket and on a stained mattress, Zuko reached out to Mai, touched her shoulder with heartbreaking hesitation. He wanted to hold her in his arms so badly. But she was distant these days, almost cold.

"Don't." Mai shrugged his hand off and turned to face the wall. "What if I get pregnant? What will we do then?"

"Have the baby." His answer was simple and natural and it infuriated Mai.

"Right, we'll have the baby on the run. Maybe some of those nice rebels will help me deliver. What do you think?" She turned back around and glared at Zuko.

He felt uncomfortable and stupid and naïve. "Nothing will be easy. Don't you think I've got that figured out, Mai?" Persistent, he reached out again, this time cupping her cheek. She allowed it. "I just want to hold you, that's all. I love you, Mai." He waited for her to say the words back. She did not.

The young woman, just nineteen years old, dropped her gaze. Delicate fingers picked at the blanket. She couldn't meet her husband's eyes. If she looked into them, fell down deep, into all that love and emotion, she would never be able to swim back to the surface, where cold, hard reality lived. Her love for Zuko was as potent as it had ever been, more so even. The heat that spilled off his skin, like invisible drops of liquid, beckoned her closer. His arms invited her in. His lips enticed. Mai was desperate to simply surrender to his love, to forget the horrors that awaited them outside this tiny bubble of safety.

But someone needed to be cold and hard. One of them had to think clearly, without passion clouding his mind. Mai had to save them both. Then, _then_ she could think about love.


	2. Cold

The woman, a few years older than Mai, handed off a small bundle. Shame made her face flush and she stared down at the ground. A few wildflowers, weeds some folks called them, sprouted up from the dirt near the front steps of her tiny home. She concentrated on them, sweet red things, delicate looking but tough. "It's all we can spare." Three youngsters clung to her legs, and three sets of brown eyes stared at Mai with a mixture of fear and wonder. "There's some rice and a few dumplings and a bit of fruit."

Mai took the bundle and turned away. Zuko was further up the path, waiting for her. For a moment she hesitated, thought about running off alone. She could blend if she had to. A lot of Fire Nation citizens knew what she looked like, but she had no feature that stood out like Zuko did. A bit of makeup, a different hairstyle and no one would recognize her. Zuko, he would make their escape and their lives so much more difficult. Mai felt her own shame then. It crept across her skin like some pox, ugly and itchy.

"Are you all right, Lady Mai?" The woman, like Zuko the night before, wanted to touch Mai, just a hand on her shoulder, something to loosen the stiffness of her frame, and melt the ice that seemed to have taken up residence in her bloodstream.

Mai's voice cut the woman deeply. "Don't call me that."

"I, I, please, I'm sorry. We're sorry for what's happened. My brother, my husband, me, we all believe in the Fire Lord. What they're doing is wrong." Distraught now, the young mother swept her arms about wildly, indicating nothing and everything.

"Pity that you're one of the very few." Bitterness seeped from Mai. It spilled outward, infecting everyone in its path. The children stepped back as a group, one biological entity, and ran back into the hovel they called home. Mai turned on her heel and walked toward Zuko. Then she stopped. "Thank you," she called over her shoulder, paying her respects to manners.

Her sympathizer mouthed a 'you're welcome' that Mai did not see.

~~~~0000~~~~

Zuko watched as she stuffed the food into her satchel. "That was kind of her."

Mai shrugged. She wondered how far small acts of kindness would get them. Something moved in the rainforest, something large and clumsy. Mai reached into her sleeve and with a fluid motion pulled out a blade.

"Kenji*," she spat when Zuko's closest advisor and good friend appeared from amongst the verdant tropical trees.

"Whoa, Mai; friend here, not foe; put the damned knife away."

"If you were such a great friend and advisor, none of this would have happened." The statement was completely unfair and cruel, but right now, Mai gave no thought to Kenji's feelings. Her anger had to go somewhere.

He understood. Kenji always understood more than she gave him credit for. He knew Zuko and he knew her too and their relationship, their love, he understood _that_ as well as anyone else, even Iroh. Mai was grateful to have him and grateful that he had not betrayed Zuko. She would never trust fully though, not anyone but Zuko. All that cynicism, all her sarcasm and gloom, everything that had been tempered by her love for Zuko and those first happy years, they were back and they were at full power. It was _their_ time to flourish. This new world Mai lived in was made for everything that came naturally to her. The new Fire Nation was immersed in darkness and Mai intended to survive, even if just to spite the rebels. And Zuko would survive with her.

"Perhaps you're right, Mai. But Zuko's alive. Right now, you need to focus on that. He's alive and you're alive and I'm here to help you both. I won't abandon either of you, ever."

"Good to know." Mai continued to walk. The jungle encroached further onto the path and she swiped at branches and leaves with tight, coiled rage.

She could hear Kenji and Zuko talking. Their easy camaraderie irritated her. The urge to stomp back and smack them both almost overtook her higher brain functions. She sucked humid air up through her nostrils before yanking out a blade, aiming and wounding a tree far up the path. Mai grabbed another and another, assaulting thick trunks and thin trunks, burning up the energy that was stored inside like some mountain of freshly mined coal, dark and dusty, needing only a source of ignition.

"Mai, she's kind of scary right now." Kenji tugged on Zuko's cloak, stopping the former Fire Lord. "I mean, look at her. What's your take on her behaviour?"

"She won't let me touch her, Kenji." It consumed Zuko, her emotional and physical distance. Overcome by very intense emotions he could not contain and the stifling heat, he threw back his hood and let tears trickle down his cheeks. They joined the trail of sweat and combined to form larger, salty drops. He wasn't embarrassed or ashamed, not in front of Kenji. His raspy voice trembled and his hands reached outward, grasping for something. Zuko's heart was bruised and battered and on the verge of shattering. He'd been betrayed and cast out. He was an anachronism. He no longer served a purpose, nor did he belong. Mai's coldness added the terrible possibility of 'unloved' to the list.

"Ah, she's afraid, my friend, so afraid. And she needs to be strong and in control. Mai needs to get you to safety. She can't think about anything else. Do you understand?" He patted Zuko's shoulder, an inadequate gesture, but all he could give.

"How do you know?"

"If she's not afraid, she's insane. And Mai is not insane. She has her ways. Don't push."

All her blades re-sheathed, the woman in question faced the two men. "Let's move. Idle chatter has no place here and now."

"You heard the lady," Kenji said.

Birdsong, the drone of insects, and the wind caressing the trees joined with their soft, steady footsteps to make a new forest song.


	3. The Beginning of the End

The trio stopped for a quick bite to eat and some water. No one spoke. Communication was a series of gestures and grunts. Mai handed out some fruit and they took long draughts from the water skin. Clothing clung to each of them in the sticky heat and their faces were coated with perspiration and grime. Mai hated just sitting there. She fingered her blades and itched to move, forward, toward something that might be better than what they had left behind.

The enemy would laugh should they find the Fire Lord there in the rain forest with his wife and advisor, eating mango and wiping sweat from his forehead, reduced to the pathetic state of banishment he had experienced at thirteen. Zuko was weak in their eyes and like dead wood, needed to be trimmed away and then burned. Yes, they wanted to see him burn. That much the men and women of the rebel movement had made clear.

But, they had to catch him first.

~~~~0000~~~~

Mai leaned against the trunk of a sprawling tree and closed her eyes for just a moment. It was a luxury she couldn't afford, lessening her vigilance, but Mai was tired, so very, very tired. Neither Zuko nor Kenji chastised her. They wouldn't. They were worried about her. That much Mai could see. The men were worried that the woman who held everything in would eventually break down or fall apart or explode all over them like a volcanic eruption, hot and destructive and terrifying.

Mai had no intention of letting _that_ happen. Ever since the death of her child, Zuko's child, some part of her had frozen. From that moment on, their lives, the life they had built together, a sweet life, a good life, had slipped away. From that moment on, everything had turned sour.

_The Fire Lady slipped out of bed and reached for her silk robe. She tied the sash loosely about her pregnant belly, pausing to caress the mound before placing a soft kiss on her sleeping husband's forehead. She was restless, had been for a few days now. Sometimes she left their bedroom, nodding to the guards stationed outside, and walked down the corridor, just a short way, to the nursery. She was almost six months pregnant and the room was nowhere near complete. But she refused any help except Zuko's. Their baby's room would be readied by those who loved her already, not hired hands, no matter how expert those hands were._

_Whenever she stepped over the threshold, Mai could not contain her smiles. She worried too, about what kind of mother she would make, but the joy of carrying this child and the anticipation of her birth, dispelled most of the woman's anxiety. This baby would be happy and cared for and cherished and disciplined and valued for exactly who she was. She or he was wanted so very much._

_Mai put her hand on the bassinet and rocked it gently. She hummed some long forgotten melody in time to the movement._

" _Oh, that was quite a kick!" It hurt and Mai leaned over, willing the pain to leave._

_It didn't, so she found the rocking chair in the semi dark and sat. Mai breathed in and out, in and out, working through the agony; pain like that could not be right. Panic never helped. So she continued to sit and breathe and rock and wait out the pain. But when Mai felt a fiery jolt in her abdomen, followed by a rush of sticky wetness between her legs, coating her thighs, she heaved herself out of the chair, lurched to the door, flung it open and collapsed in the hallway._

" _Zuko," she shouted._

_One guard ran to her while the other hammered on the bedroom door calling for the Fire Lord. No one thought to fetch the physician, not until Zuko spotted his wife on the runner, the red of her blood blending with the red of the material._

" _The physician….now!" His voice was garbled and choked and he dropped down beside Mai, brushing the hair back from her forehead before scooping her up into his arms and carrying her to the bed. From there the extent of the bleeding became obvious; their beautiful dream had been twisted into a gory nightmare._

~~~~0000~~~~

"Let her rest, Zuko." Kenji placed a warning hand on his arm. "She needs it."

The firebender opened his mouth to argue, wanted to point out the stiffness of his wife's body, the tightness of her fists, the look of pain and sorrow on her face; that wasn't rest and Mai needed no part of it. But he clamped it shut tight instead and kept those thoughts quiet. Arguing took energy, and that was something he had precious little of these days.

"We'll be there soon; I've made the arrangements. Maybe it will be easier on the next island." Kenji wanted to be hopeful and upbeat. It was his nature. But even he had to admit that the situation was dire. "It'll be all right."

"You don't sound convinced of that." Zuko leaned back like Mai and stared upward, seeking the tiny patches of blue visible beyond the rain forest's thick canopy. "She's still sad about the baby. She cries sometimes, at night, in her sleep. How do I help her, Kenji?"

"Be here for her," he shrugged. "When Mai's ready to let go of the pain, she'll want to talk. She can't keep this up forever, this cold, hard, unreachable act she's performing."

Zuko hoped not. But he understood. He understood her desire to push all the anguish down and away. Sometimes it was just too much to bear.

_The physician's words were a formality. Zuko knew the baby was dead. He'd glimpsed the fragile form, not much longer than his hand and wrist combined, eyes closed, silent. Bits of skin, paper thin, the veins visible, showed through the blood that coated her body. Their daughter couldn't breathe. She couldn't live beyond the safety of her mother's womb. But she was beautiful and he loved her._

_Zuko suppressed a wail, but the tears fell. He turned to Mai, weak from blood loss, her skin cold and damp, face turned into the pillow. He crooned to her like he might have one day crooned to their child. He whispered in her ear, jumbled words that were as much to comfort himself as to comfort Mai._

" _We'll be okay. We'll be okay."_

_Mai said nothing and when he reached for her hand she pulled it away._

The rebels made their first strike that night. And they had reveled in the death of the next Fire Lord, their baby. Mai's hatred for them flourished in her heart. She nourished it every day with thoughts of little Sara.

~~~~0000~~~~

Mai stood up and indicated the path with a nod. She'd never been one to waste words; but _now_ speaking seemed to hurt her. Zuko purposely sought out her eyes, trying to make some sort of connection. For a moment, he thought the chill, almost dead look wavered. Perhaps he was imagining the thaw.


	4. In Pieces

Kenji looked ridiculous, poking his head out from amongst the thick foliage, checking the beach for people other than their oarsman. They were at the tip of the Fire Nation's main island, far away now from Capitol City, and tired beyond anything any of them had felt before.

He patted the torn seat of his pants and glanced back at Mai, a sheepish expression on his face. "You wouldn't know how to mend these, would you?" His attempt at humour earned him only an icy glare from Mai. "No, of course you wouldn't."

"Is it all clear?" Zuko's wife stalked toward the mass of greenery. She had blades out and was ready to wound or kill. Her robe was torn as well, from an encounter with several thorny bushes.

"Yes, it's clear."

The three stumbled out onto the deserted little cove and headed for the water. Mai scooped up handfuls and splashed her face. She hated the feel of sweat and dirt on her skin. The water was warm, naturally, but better than nothing. Zuko stood beside his wife and did the same, while sneaking glances at her.

"Are you okay?" It was a stupid question, but he could think of no other way to start a conversation or at least provoke a response.

"Yeah, great; when I think of our future, I'm all smiles." She turned to him and forced her lips upward in a macabre facsimile of a happy expression.

Zuko was just glad that she had said 'our' future instead of 'my' future. "I know it's bad, Mai."

"Understatement much?" She spat the sarcastic retort out quickly, before Zuko had a chance to finish and felt a flush of triumph. How dare he try to ease her pain, as if words could ever help?

Zuko was persistent, though. He never did learn when to give up. "I know that everything is uncertain right now. I know our lives will never be the same." He was pleading with her, reaching for her hands, seeking out her gaze. But she stared off into the distance, across the water, the beauty of the sunset seeming to hold her transfixed. Her arms she wrapped tight about herself. "I never expected things to turn out this way." He lowered his voice then, almost afraid to mention their daughter. "I'm grieving too. I hurt."

"You didn't carry her. You didn't fight to bring her into the world even though it was too soon. _You_ don't know." Her voice cracked, just a tiny bit, but enough to give Zuko hope that maybe his Mai was ready to return to him. The nineteen year old woman inwardly cursed. She needed to remain strong. There was no time now for grief or pain. She was shattered inside, but holding the myriad little pieces together with the extreme force of her will. She couldn't let go, or the jagged bits, like pieces of a broken looking glass, would be underfoot. Everywhere she stepped, Mai would slice herself open and bleed.

"That's not fair, Mai. I loved her too. I wanted her. Agni, I wanted her." He was weeping now and Mai stared at him with something akin to disgust.

"Maybe it was a blessing." Mai's voice was hard and bitter and she hugged herself even tighter, the only comfort she would allow.

_I don't mean that, Sara. I miss you. We miss you. We wanted to take care of you. You're our girl._

"Maybe it's better that she didn't make it."

_No, no, no; I love you, sweet girl. I would give anything to change what happened. I would give anything for the chance to hold you._

Just saying the words tore at her heart and she knew, even in her closed off state, that those words might break her husband. She felt cruel and harsh and horrible and not fit to breathe the air. And she ached inside where Sara had lived for too short a time. Her breasts ached too, still full of milk that her child would never need. The world was a dark place now, black and bleak and Mai didn't believe she would ever see light again. He wasn't enough. Zuko wasn't enough. Mai was empty and no amount of talk could fill her up again.

Her footing wavered and she stumbled forward, down onto her knee in the wet sand. Grimacing, furious at her show of weakness, she pushed herself up again, waving away Zuko's hand.

"Let me help." He had heard her terrible words and if he for one second thought Mai _meant_ them, he would have been devastated.

"I'm fine."

But she wasn't fine. Mai's body had endured far too much over the last few days; a difficult childbirth that ended in tragedy, fleeing the palace, rebels everywhere, walking and walking in the heat, eating little. She wasn't simply tired. Mai was on the verge of collapse.

"You're not fine, dammit. You need to stop this, Mai." Zuko grabbed hold of her shoulders and held on tight. He looked deep into her eyes, deep into her soul. He'd never seen pain so terrible. It was as if every hurt Mai had ever suffered, from day one of her life, had somehow combined to form this massive mound of agony. He could not imagine how she was keeping it all buried. And all he wanted to do was take it from her. "You're allowed to cry and scream. You're allowed to feel. That doesn't make you weak. It makes you human." He forced his arms around her. Mai was too fragile now to push them aside but she was unyielding in his embrace. "You are the strongest person I have ever met. Keeping everything inside won't help. Let it out, Mai. Please. Let it out and start to move forward. That's how we'll survive. We need to work together. Don't push me away anymore."

Kenji watched the drama from a discreet distance while keeping an eye out for their boat and their man and anything or _anyone_ less helpful. He gave Zuko an encouraging smile. Hugging was good. Hugging was positive. At least Mai wasn't poking him full of holes. That had to be progress.

A small boat rounded the corner then, one man aboard, a strong looking middle-aged man who waved to Kenji. He would take them to the next island, a short distance, and from there the trio would meet up with an Order member. Yes, Kenji had it all arranged. But in times like these, guarantees were impossible.

"Zuko, the boat; we need to go now."

He injected his voice with plenty of urgency, but still Zuko held onto Mai. Deprived of real physical contact with his wife for too long, Zuko was making the most of the moment. He did not want to let her go. He realized then that her eyes had slid shut and her breathing deepened.

"She's sleeping," he announced quietly. No one had better wake her or an angry former Fire Lord might just set that person ablaze.

Gently, he picked Mai up and carried her to the boat. Maybe the next island would bring them better luck.


	5. Death and the Order

Mai's sleep was deep and void of dreams. Her stillness, almost absolute, disturbed Zuko. From a certain angle, when he could not see the slow rise and fall of her chest, she looked like a corpse. He shook his head, eager to dispel the image and thought from his mind.

Their progress was steady. The oarsman hugged the coastline for as long as he could before heading out into the small stretch of open water that separated the two islands. A lantern sat beside him and that was all the light that guided the group through the blanketing darkness of the sea at night, a night that had fallen quickly as they climbed into the boat and pushed off from the main island. He knew the area as well as anyone and had made the crossing hundreds of times.

Kenji didn't worry. He worried more about what might be waiting for them once they docked. No matter how much he planned, how much he trusted his contacts, someone might talk, let something slip, sell them out. Just about everyone had a price and if not a price, someone they loved, someone who could be threatened. Zuko's advisor would never tell them so, but he expected to die. He expected them _all_ to die. They were too few and the rebels too many.

A certain calm and clarity of thought accompanied that expectation. Kenji mapped out their route in his mind, everything a brilliant, clear image in bold colours. He planned and he anticipated. His mind was sharp and alert, more than he ever recalled it being. Exhilaration coursed through his veins. He was ready for death but felt more alive than ever before.

That didn't mean he would lie down and accept his end. That didn't mean he wouldn't defend Mai and Zuko with everything that he had. He loved them both and this rebellion, this miserable journey, was not what they deserved. Zuko hadn't suppressed his people. He had freed them, freed them from one hundred years of war and all the myriad costs that war had incurred: monetary costs, emotional costs, lives wasted, families broken. But some could not let go of Sozin's warped vision for the Fire Nation, many in fact. In their minds, the Fire Nation should rule all, completely dominant and without mercy. Their country was in crisis, and the Fire Lord had no choice but to run, find safe haven and attempt to regain control from afar. That might not be possible without outside help, or even _with_ it.

Kenji closed his eyes for a moment, hoping to dispel the rush of thoughts and catch a few minutes of sleep. Zuko was intent on Mai, his focus like that of a hawk circling its prey. The oarsman, a simple villager trying to do the right thing, continued to row, his strokes steady and sure, moves he had made thousands of times. The water, nothing but blackness that seemed to go on forever and down to unimaginable depths, slapped against the wood of the boat, a rhythmic sound, soothing and calm. Kenji slipped a bit further into oblivion.

~~~~0000~~~~

It took the villager's hand on his shoulder, giving him a good shake, to wake Kenji. "The shore," the man stated simply, pointing into the distance.

He was loath to disturb the couple, but he must. "Zuko." Kenji's voice was soft and gentle. "We're there. You have to wake Mai. We need her alert."

"But look at her." The deposed Fire Lord brushed some hair back from Mai's forehead and kissed the pale skin. He inhaled her scent, wishing to keep it a part of him, imprint it on his memory, and burn it into his brain matter. His lips brushed against hers next and he whispered Mai's name. Zuko's heart shredded into ragged edged bits when he stared deep into pretty narrow eyes. Whatever escape sleep had gifted Mai with still had her in its grip. She smiled at Zuko, under a spell, sweetly unaware now of their situation.

"Hi." She sounded dazed, like some potent drug had her in its powerful grip. Her movements slow and sluggish, Mai looked about her surroundings. She couldn't see much of anything but Zuko's face and she smiled once more, reaching up with a hand to stroke his cheek. "Are we on a boat?" The rocking of the small craft was sweet and familiar. It reminded her of something else, a rocking chair, and then everything came back, all the horror and all the pain and all the loss and she withdrew.

Zuko knew the moment it happened. The light went out in her eyes, as though someone had drawn a curtain of deepest ebony across them. She reminded him of a corpse again and he shuddered. Inside he railed against the world, the spirits, anybody and everybody, for making Mai suffer so.

Part of him was glad that she had enjoyed a respite in sleep. But was it worth the exquisite agony of remembering all over again?

"I'm so sorry." The words meant nothing. He knew that. But Zuko spoke them anyway.

Mai ignored them _and_ her husband. Her show of weakness, her collapse, could not happen again. She wouldn't allow it, Mai was strong. Another woman, a good wife, would whisper back something like 'It's all right darling. None of this mess is your fault. We'll be fine, you'll see. I have you to protect me after all.' And then she would press her body to his, enjoying the feel of powerful arms around her. But Mai was Mai, taciturn at the best of times and trying to survive now, that and keep Zuko alive. For no matter how cruel her treatment of him might seem, she loved him more than anyone and anything. No matter how much she loathed shoving every feeling, every urge to touch him and hold him and let him hold her, away, down someplace horribly deep and dark, just like when she was a little girl, she _had_ to. One of them needed clear eyes. One of them must be hard and sharp like the metal of her blades.

Zuko fought her resistance and held her hand for a moment, stroking the inside of her wrist with his thumb, tracing the blue veins that he could just make out. She yanked her hand away.

"Focus," she snapped. "We don't know what's waiting for us."

_Please let it be just the Order member. Please._

The oarsman got out close to shore and Kenji followed, both pulling the boat onto the black sand. The one stood, arms crossed as he watched Mai and Zuko step out of the boat, impatient to get back home. He nodded to the man he still considered his lord, hopped back in and began to row.

"Don't linger or anything," Mai muttered under her breath. But she did not blame the man. Close proximity to Zuko meant danger now, not honour. He had his own family to take care of.

The three of them turned about and stared into the darkness. Neither Kenji nor Zuko risked creating a flame. The Order member was to meet them on the beach and guide them further, one step closer to Piandao and what they hoped was safety.

"Where is he?" Mai hissed the words. She held a blade in each hand. Something was wrong. Mai knew when her Sara came too early that she would die. That terrible pain she'd had, the one that dropped her to the floor, had filled her with horror and worry. She'd been frantic and desperate then.

Mai's exterior now was ice while below the skin everything churned like the interior of the volcanoes that dotted the Fire Nation archipelago. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

When the Order member stumbled from the jungle and onto the beach, an arrow sticking out of his back, blood oozing from between his lips, Mai's feeling was confirmed. The man fell face down in the sand, having spoken not a word. Then the beach was swarming with men and women too, most of them armed and some carrying torches.

The wind picked up and shifted the bank of heavy grey clouds that covered the nearly full moon. Mai could see their faces now, angry faces, smug faces, people eager to kill. She stepped in front of Zuko and Kenji stepped in front of her. They had no choice. They had to fight.


	6. Empty

The stillness was unearthly. After their initial rush onto the beach, the rebels had stopped, staring at their quarry, the fire from their torches flickering in the darkness like pretty temple candles. There the Fire Lord was, right in front of them, the man who represented everything that they hated, and they were unsure how to proceed.

Zuko wanted to push his way forward, shove Mai and Kenji out of the way and face his tormentors head on. But his wife and his advisor held on to their positions, stubborn and protective. He was the nation's last hope, the only sane member left of the royal family, the only leader Avatar Aang and the rest of the world would acknowledge. They needed to preserve his life if possible. Their own were not nearly so important.

Of course, Zuko did not see the situation in those practical terms. No one was more important than Mai. He would die a thousand deaths for her, suffer any torment. And Kenji was so much more than just an advisor. He was their friend, their good friend, a man they trusted without question, a man that both he and Mai loved. Should harm come to him, Zuko would be devastated.

So it was a strange situation, each wanting to protect the others, none worrying about their own lives. And none of them made a move. The _first_ of a battle might set the tone. That thought was a scary one. Who would want that responsibility? Then again, would it really be much of a battle? They were only three and could count dozens of rebels, disorganized and untrained looking though they were.

It was a young man who moved first, He was hardly more than a boy, one of the rebels who stood at the front of their ragtag group. Letting out a shrill yelp, some sort of battle cry, the man started forward, aiming a blast of fire at Kenji. The older man deflected it as easily as he might swat aside an irritating bug.

The trio had no plan. All they could do was fight their best and their hardest, use the experience they had accrued over the years and hope. In this dark time, in this dark situation, with such odds against them, hope was almost impossible to foster let alone maintain.

"Is that the best you've got?" Zuko's advisor grinned and charged at the rebels, shooting fire from hands and feet. He was a whirlwind of blinding orange and red and took out four rebels in just a few seconds. The screams of the men as they burned, their desperate drive to reach the sea and some sort of relief sounded sweeter than any music, sweeter than the cries of his favorite lover. Kenji roared with laughter. He sounded and looked like a crazy person and some of the rebels backed off, afraid of this fiery spectre.

Mai possessed a limited arsenal and had to make every throw count for something. She ducked spears and arrows with grace and tried to pick out the leader. Taking him or her out might crumble the remaining rebels. With any luck, and Mai was not counting on that, they would become like a body without a brain, aimless and broken. Perhaps then they would scatter and she and Zuko and Kenji could see one more sunrise and perhaps even make it to Piandao's. Her eyes scanned the people. They wore no uniforms of any kind, just everyday clothing in an array of reds and browns and maroons and gold. A few were clearly capable with their weapons. They might be military or Home Guard. Others looked more like farmers or fishermen, more comfortable wielding a hoe or a net than the spears and bows and axes they carried.

"Damn," she cursed under her breath.

While studying the rebels and avoiding death, she also kept a close eye on her husband. He had followed Kenji's example and was taking the fight to them. She couldn't help but admire Zuko's form and grieve for him too. The young leader had taken such pride in rediscovering the true nature of firebending. He hated the idea of using it for violence of any kind. She knew his already shattered heart suffered another blow every time a blast of fire hit a mark and someone burned. But this was self defense and these people were tearing down everything good that Zuko had built. They deserved the pain. That's what Mai told herself as the stench of sizzling flesh filled her nostrils. That's what she believed.

One man hung back from the others. He appeared to be in his early thirties, handsome in an ordinary sort of way, emanating a certain power and charisma. The others looked to him every so often, as if waiting for acknowledgement or direction. He would nod or point but stayed outside the range of fighting.

_Coward!_

He became Mai's target and she was determined to cut him down. As she took aim with one of her favorite weapons, a curved, red tinted blade with a deadly point, an arrow grazed her thigh. The sting took her aback for a moment and she stumbled in the heavy sand, placing one hand down to maintain some sort of balance. Zuko panicked and in a frenzy cut down two men with his dual sword. He put a hand on her back and leaned down. His blades dripped red and the black sand drank it up. Mai couldn't take her eyes off the sword. Further ahead, Kenji continued to battle like a man possessed.

"I'm fine," she said, shoving him away. "Worry about yourself."

Inside she reveled at the feel of his touch. The heat of his hand penetrated the material of her tunic and she recalled those times over the years when such a touch would lead to something else. Those were challenging days, complicated ones with Zuko the new Fire Lord and the world in transition. But they were so innocent compared to the ones she woke up to now.

"Mai, please…." He reached for her. He was always reaching for her and she was always pulling away. He hardly ever got to touch.

"Stop it, Zuko." Her voice cracked and she stood up, flinching as the pain hit once more. "I need to fight. I need to protect you."

Amidst all the tumult, she found her target again and threw. Her aim was perfect, her throw straight and true. The blade lodged in the man's throat and he fell, one hand clutching the wound, the other scrabbling at the air as if it might save him. It didn't.

Mai mourned the loss of her weapon, but already had another in hand. She took out a second rebel before any of them noticed their leader was dead. Rather than fall apart and scatter as Mai had hoped, they shouted curses at the trio and swarmed en masse like a hive of enraged buzzard wasps.

Instinct kicked in. Mai, Zuko and Kenji formed a tight unit, backs touching backs, shoulders touching shoulders. All of them were wounded now. Kenji's sleeve was heavy with blood and a huge gash marred his right cheek. Zuko's hair was matted down with sweat and blood. He limped a bit, favoring his left leg. Mai took a moment to examine him more closely. There was a huge dark patch on his stomach as well. It was hard to see in the darkness but when the fire in his fist flared up, it stood out. She gasped softly.

"Zuko….how bad is it?" Mai wanted nothing more now than to hold her husband. She was terrified and unprepared, though part of her had known that only death and heartache remained for them. All her determination to remain objective and cold vanished. Was everything good to be snatched away from her?

He attempted a smile and nonchalance. It came out a grimace and a groan. "I'll be fine. We'll be fine. They're coming."

~~~~0000~~~~

Mai could not keep track of the movement around her. It was so fast and so muddled. But it did not take long for Kenji to drop. She heard Zuko's cry of grief and bit her lip hard. The blood was sharp and tangy in her mouth and kept her alert. The young woman spared a glance for the fallen man and blinked back her tears.

Anger traversed her veins, moving along with the blood, and it filled up her heart. She fought with terrifying ferocity, sending each of her remaining darts and blades flying, kicking out with her feet, scratching and clawing once all her weapons were gone. The remaining rebels, and Mai had a flash of pride as she saw how few were left, all suffered wounds. They bled and their skin was charred. But they kept coming and coming and Mai wanted to scream.

"Can't last long." Zuko could hardly get the words out. He crumpled and fought while on his knees. Too exhausted to bend, he slashed out with his dual sword. "Go!"

"Get up!" Mai _did_ scream. She screamed the words as loudly as she could. They penetrated the night air and sounded in the thick jungle. Birds and monkeys shrieked and chattered and the cacophony of sound almost drowned out the devastation of the battle. "I'm not going. You go. I'll stay and fight." These words she spoke close to Zuko's ear.

He laughed and Mai almost smacked him. "I'm dying, Mai. You're the practical one, remember? Can't you see?" Zuko fought to take in air. He let his eyes linger on Mai; bloodied, dirty, disheveled, her eyes blazing with both anger and grief, she was as beautiful as he had ever seen her. "Go!" He pointed toward the jungle with one half of his sword. The other half he handed to her. "Take it and go."

She hesitated. Should she die alongside Zuko? What was there to live for anyway? A rebel swung his sword, aiming for Mai. She dodged the blow and grabbed hold of Zuko's blade. Separate from its partner, its other half, the blade could only do so much. Like she and Zuko, together they were so much better.

Zuko wept now. The tears made tracks down through the filth caked on his face. Mai hacked at a rebel, cutting him down, before risking everything to cup Zuko's cheek, kiss his lips and say goodbye.

"I've always loved you. I won't stop."

Zuko nodded and mouthed his reply. Mai ran then, the sword swooping around her body. She ran toward the trees and looked back only once. Zuko's body was covered with rebels, their cottons covering his silks, their crude weapons biting his flesh, finishing him off.

Sobs wracked Mai's body as she fled through the jungle, tripping over roots, falling and picking herself up again, escaping to she knew not where. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, all the tears she had not shed before. What had it all been for? Everything was lost to her; her baby, her husband, her lover, the best friend she ever had. All was lost and for Mai there was no future but one.

~~~~0000~~~~

"Mai, I brought you some tea."

Piandao placed a hand on her shoulder. His touch was hesitant and brief, his voice gentle. Mai didn't much like being touched. She wore white, the colour of mourning, a simple robe. Raven hair hung down her back. She was free of any adornment. Mai had lost weight. Eating was a chore and she took no pleasure in any food, any taste.

The swords master placed the tray nearby. Mai would drink it when and if she chose to. He could not cajole her into anything. But she was as safe here as she could be. Members of the Order, the strongest, the best benders, guarded his estate night and day. No one could get to her. Perhaps no one wanted to. Her husband was dead. Mai, alone, meant nothing to the rebels.

She nodded and murmured her thanks. Even that was an effort. Once Piandao left the room, she poured a cup and continued to look out the window, across the green vista, unspoiled land, jagged mountains covered in a carpet of vegetation. It was lovely, but Mai took no real note of that fact. Her gaze was empty.

But inside, in her mind, a flurry of thoughts and plans abided. She would have her revenge. It might take years, she might die enacting her plans, but that did not matter. She would have her revenge and they would pay.


End file.
